I don’t like to complain, but Mummy keeps going out in the afternoon and it’s nearly dark, or even really dark, when she comes back.

A couple of nights last week she came back when the sun was in the sky, but not in the garden, not even in Roscoe & Neville’s run.  We were all pleased she put us out on the grass for a little while, but really, it was just a little while.  Then at the weekend it rained.  Well, Saturday it rained, and Sunday before Mummy went out she dried the grass for us with the towel, and said it might be dry enough when she came back, but she doubted it.

Well, don’t you know, but she was right.  Or so she said.  I’m supposed to believe Mummy when she says things like that, but it was still sunny out, so why wasn’t it dry enough.

Well, I suppose at least we got a little bit of late night grass time last week. There won’t be much more of it, Mummy says.  The leaves are starting to cover up the grass, so I suppose that means it’s going to be winter soon.  I hate winter.

Then again, after winter comes spring.